1965 Bus Stop, Bus Go...

 My sister and would walk from our apartment at 89 Avenue de Wagram to the corner of l'Avenue des Ternes and la Rue Bayern, where the bus would pick us up to take us to the American School of Paris in Louveciennes.   At the time, there was a big Au Printemps department store on the corner.  I remember that there was a tower on the building. (Au Printemps was eventually bought out by FNAC)


When I think back, it always seems to be a gray, cold, and rainy day, maybe in November.  I am standing at the bus stop with my sister, I watch her get on the bus, then I turn around and go into the store.  In the entrance way, there is a place that makes berlingots basque, which is a triangular candy made with hot sugar.  It smells like cotton candy and the air is warm and humid.  I can see my breath.


Then I go inside to the stationery department.  I stay there for at least an hour or so, handling all the cahiers (notebooks), plumes (pens), et crayons (and pencils)*.  After that, I go home, stopping at the boulangerie across the street from our apartment to get something tasty so I can bribe my mother not to tell my dad I skipped school again.

However, when the weather is nice or I am going to meet my boyfriend, Patrice, I walk to les Champs Elysees and just wallow in the joy of being there.  When that is the plan, I meet my sister in the afternoon at the bus stop and we walk home together down la Rue de Poncelet.  She gives me all the pertinent information like what they served for lunch, etc., so that I will pass any cross examination that might be thrown at me.


It worked for a long time, that is until my mother saw me "sauntering" (her word) down les Champs Elysees with Patrice one day.  It just so happened she was sitting at one of the cafes.

She took it well.  My father, on the other hand, did not.

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* I have always been drawn to paper and notebooks, maybe because of that innate need to express myself, whether by writing or by drawing, neither of which I can do.  It's one of the great frustrations of my life - how do I express myself, let everything that's inside come out?

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